we could split a soda
stretch out on the floor
and laugh at the perfect mess
later i’ll whisper out the perfect denouement to you across a crowded room. and you’ll hear me. even if the music is loud.
Take me to the edge of the woods and show me where the world drops off into a crevice. I’ve been there once. I threw my heart like a stone. I never heard it hit the bottom. I think it’s still waiting for me. Soft and slack against a tree root. Patient. Perfect. Just barely beating.
The sun would touch everything. The heat would settle down the worry.
It’s wishes. Wonder. The stories we almost can’t hold onto. The childhood mythology.
Amy Turn Sharp is on FIRE with her latest poems. This is one of my favorite groups of words I’ve ever read…
“I always liked to be afraid. Until I didn’t.”
the childhood mythology. it’s what keeps us
coming back again and again to the light.
Thinking through the heat.
She’d tell the bathtub her secrets.